Blinding Streaks
by Japanese and Chocolate
Summary: The cosmos were something they found akin to common ground. Druitt Diehard Chellenge: Falling Star


**Blinding Streaks**

The cosmos were something they found akin to common ground. Helen's field would always be medicine, but she would occasionally dabble outside this. Tentatively testing the waters to find if they were freezing cold, boiling hot or just right. But for John Druitt, for some unknown reason, she would have flung herself into any waters and swim. Astrology was a science she found to be to inaccurate, based almost entirely on guesswork as it was. She'd no doubt that there was something to it, with the predictions that were occasionally proved right, but although she'd chosen to walk a path different to many others, she still kept her feet firmly on the ground.

John, however, was interested in the history of it. How stars were used to navigate by early sailors, how they were as ingrained in mythology as deeply as they were in the night sky. And, of course, through it they explored each other's history.

"I was sixteen" She said with a smile, "and I was in the middle of being tutored. I was scolded by my governess for leaving my work to gaze out the window, and when I told her what was happening, she remarked it could be Judgement Day for all she cared and I'd be finishing my work _immediately_." Her imitation mocked the poor woman who'd been payed to contend with Helen as a girl, but it was laced with fondness.

"Well I was sneaking out with James, who of course knew exactly when it was going to happen." He was also nostalgic.

"I can imagine that."

"Yes, it was all well and good until everyone came out to gape at the sky and found us having snuck out stationed ourselves on the little knoll near the school." They laughed together for a minute, before turning back to their books.

Helen's voice interrupted him. She was speaking so softly he wondered if she even knew she was saying the words aloud. "They looked like streaks across my vision, like I'd been blinded by the beauty." Helen's head was tilted back slightly, looking at the plain brown roof of the library but seeing the light showering outside from her window.

John looked at Helen, feeling the same thing she had then every time he saw her.

~*!*~*!*~*!*~*!*~

It was 1935 and she was tired. The Sanctuary had never been fuller and, while this should have pleased her, it meant more mouths to feed and more poor creatures to turn away. Even the black market couldn't supply enough meat to feed their carnivorous residents. Sitting on the roof was one of the few moments where she hasn't had to see starving faces looking out from enclosures, or glance across the street and see a child begging with a single uplifted hand. Most likely it was his parents who broke it.

"You're not looking so well, my dear."

The voice drifted through the air, draping itself around her as languidly as the snow draped the nearby buildings.

John didn't mean to say that she wasn't still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. What he meant to say was that it's obvious she has been sleeping little and eating even less. Her cheeks weren't quite hollow, but her cheekbones were more defined than when they last met. She's not weak, muscle tissue taking the place of fat tissue, but she's worn. He could see it, even from two metres back and without her face in full veiw.

"It's getting hard to supply the residents." She stated simply. She's perfectly willing to go without food, because if there is one thing she loathes more than turning abnormals away it is kicking out those who have made the Sanctuary their home.

The pinpricks of light that had been falling over the last few days were almost indistinguishable from the crystals that float down to adorn the buildings and dust her hair like diamond pins, but they were there.

He held his leather covered hand out to her. "Let me take you to dinner."

Any other year, any other meteor shower, and she would have said no. But she was tired, and hungry, and when she almost tripped and he almost caught her, she felt more at home than she will ever admit.

~*!*~*!*~*!*~*!*~

In 1945, they watched Perseids. He held her close and let her think. While the meteors looked like raining ice, she felt like it was raining fire. She wondered if, one week ago and again 3 days later, this was what they saw in their last few moments as that strong white light of the bombs blinded them.

~*!*~*!*~*!*~*!*~

Halley's comet passes through the sky in 1986. It's not the first time its orbit intersected with earth in their lifetime, but the last time they were too busy pursuing Adam to wonder at something so trivial. Now, life is full of trivial things, and it takes on a new importance. Helen, wants trivial things, and she wants them with John, but that will never happen. She would never let it happen now.

Once, they would talk during these times, argue or kiss. Now, they just stand in silence, each contemplating the other, but without voicing anything. Helen was never sure if it was because they already knew what the other was thinking, or didn't want to know.

She's sure that John cannot guess what she's thinking at the moment.

As always, neither really plays attention to the sky, they've seen it all before. Instead, they watch each other. Something is different, and John at least cannot tell what.

She flinched when he first appeared, though he was sure she was expecting him.

Her arms were wrapped loosely around her midsection, but she wasn't cold. And she hunched ever so slightly, which was entirely improper for a women who still reminded him of the Victorian era.

After he left, she remembered that day in the library. Remembering something so wonderful, when it seemed wonderful, and catching him looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Soon, she would have someone else too look at that way.


End file.
